Broken Circle
by RaddxRika
Summary: KuroxFai:Kuro takes a hit for Fai, and Fai makes a risky gamble. They say that what goes around comes around, but that all depends on what you put around, and it was never clearer than it is now. A/N: Co-authored w/ TheHatterMaddox, Alt.Story Full Circle
1. Chapter 1

**[A/N]** TheHatterMaddox: RaddxRika, take it away!

RaddxRika: …. Okay then, I will. Okay, so me and Maddie made this out of sheer boredom. This ficlet is going to be on BOTH of our accounts, for reference. Anyway. None of us are writing any specific parts/characters—we just pass the laptop back and forth until we get something we like. This is my first published fic, and I urge you to review! Also note- this is boy/boy, yaoi, and rated M for a REASON. Later chapters, my fangirls… ;)

**[Fai]**It took about three seconds. Maybe three and a half. Four. Four seconds for everything I believed I lived my life for, everything I thought I knew about myself to be destroyed. Everything, gone in seconds.

The men were thugs, but they were better than most mercenaries. More stealthy, and less reliant on brute force. They snuck up on us while we were trying to get an unwell Sakura to safety, six of them and by the time Kurogane and I realized halfway down a dead-end alley it was too late.

Kurogane took on the leader- who didn't seem interested in fighting any of the rest of us anyway. Syaoran hid Sakura somewhere; something I was only half aware of, as they were already on me. Next thing I knew we were back to back, holding them off and knocking out a few. It wasn't hard- fighting isn't something I need to actually think about- but I did have to pay attention, or I was going to get hurt.

Then, one of them found Sakura. I don't think Syaoran realized he had moved until he had already cut off the man's arm. Problem is- neither did I. Unfortunately, the man behind me did. I began to turn and I had enough time to see his sword descending in a perfectly timed swing that would have cut me right in half. Then there was black. And red.

Kuro-puu, swordless and dressed in the soft, unprotective clothing of the current world had jumped in, a second before the blow would have killed me. I stared. His eyes were red. So was the blood. He wobbled. He fell. That was three seconds.

It took the other half a second for my raw fear and blood boiling rage to pass my lips in a whistle that wasn't legal in any place that knew it existed. It took far less than that for me to pound him, even if he _was _dead. One punch, right to the center of what used to be a face. A swift kick, knocking him back into a wall, where he crumpled in a bloody heap. I knew I was shaking. I couldn't stop.

I turned, I smiled at Syaoran who had turned a second too late to see what had happened, and I walked. Every step was eons long, years separating me from him. But I did it- I had slipped enough already.

"Wha-" Syaoran was confused. Why wouldn't he be? After all, I didn't use magic. Didn't _use _to use magic. I dropped to my knees and I pulled his head into my lap, gentle even though my fingers were shaking. He didn't look at me- didn't glare, or grumble, or complain, even as I smoothed his hair back out of his face. A tear fell on his cloak- he insisted on wearing it, even here. Four seconds. It's brother fell on Kuro-tan's now-pale cheek. If I hadn't forced myself to breathe, I was sure I would have passed out from lack of oxygen. Even so, I wasn't sure how the air passed through the knot in my chest that made it seem that my throat was closing.

"Kuro-myu did it." I didn't know what I was saying, just things so he wouldn't bother me. So he would leave us alone. It was wrong. I didn't care. My voice shook, at least as much as the rest of my body, if not more. It probably terrified Syaoran. It definitely worried Sakura. I couldn't imagine why it would have ever mattered without him.

I think he said something. I'm not sure what. I don't know how we got back to our rooms, just that I carried him all the way- I didn't see anything else. I didn't hear, or think, if I could help it. Just healing spells- not my specialty, but I knew some. Most require a sacrifice, some small others not. At that point, I would have paid anything. That's when I stopped thinking altogether- anything else would have been too much. I wasn't even shaking anymore. There wasn't enough left of me in one piece for that.

**[Kurogane]**The idiot had almost gotten himself killed. Not watching his back, and some son of a bitch had tried to cut him in half. I didn't know I'd moved to block him until I saw the blood everywhere. My blood. I tried to keep standing, but couldn't, and I fell to ground. My sight was fuzzy, getting blacker around the edges. I figured, based on past experience and the feel of the wound that I had almost exactly a minute before I passed out.

Where was the kid? From the floor, all I could see where black boots- we were all wearing those, us and them. There was a thud, someone hitting something. Hard. I would have grinned if I could, but my face wasn't cooperating. Probably not a good sign as to how much blood I was losing.

I heard a whistle, far away and too high and ugly sounding. It hurt my ears, a stabbing sort of sound. The mage. So he'd finally decided to protect himself. It was about time. The pain was getting worse, eating away at upper body and nagging ay my concentration, but I was good at ignoring pain- they'd taught us that early. I shoved it away.

After a few moments I could hear footsteps that echoed wrong, they way they would sound through water. There were shapes moving in my sight, but I couldn't tell what they were anymore.

Something moved me, and though I couldn't see anything more than vague blobs of color, I could still feel their cool hands shaking. The kid then maybe? Or the girl? It couldn't have been the mage- damned idiot never stopped smiling. Then, instead of the cold hard cobble-stones pressed against my fore-head, my head was resting on something warm, soft. There were hands, cool on my fevered skin, brushing an irritating piece of hair from my face. Something warm fell on my shoulder, and my cheek- I hoped it wasn't blood.

I could hear them though I couldn't make out any words - the mage, the kid, the princess and even the pork bun. Even with my hearing almost gone, it's obnoxious voice came through loud and clear. I could see the yellowy-blond color of the mages hair and a white blob that was his unnaturally pale skin. The last thing I saw before everything went black was his eyes, the same (also unnatural) shockingly blue eyes, the only thing that was still clear. The only thing that hadn't blurred. Then I was gone.

**[Fai]**I didn't cry. But I didn't eat, or move, or talk, either. Syaoran had come in and sat with me by Kuro-tan's bed. He didn't try to make me talk, but put his hand on my shoulder, staying like that ten minutes before leaving. I didn't even glance at him waiting for the comfortable solitude to be returned to me, and the next time he came in, he sat across from me on the other side of the bed instead. Sakura came in often, with soup for us, and tea for me. I smiled at her, nodded, and threw the tea out the window the moment she left. Mokona came and went. I barely noticed. I was too afraid of him not being able to swallow if to give Kuro any soup, though I dripped some water into his dry mouth between breaths that were too jagged, too dry and too labored.

I didn't want the food, or the throwing-up I felt sure would follow it. I didn't want the sympathy. I didn't _deserve _the sympathy. Sakura washed Kuro's blood off of my hands in a small bowl, if only literally. Syaoran made me change clothes, but I insisted on doing it in the room, so he left rather than making me. I hated that there wasn't a mark on my skin. I wanted to fix that awful mistake, but I was too afraid. Kuro had gotten hurt to keep me that way, and I couldn't nullify his sacrifice out of selfishness. Cowardice. I wasn't capable of much more. Or even much different. It was my life's story. I figured it always would be.

**[A/N]**RaddxRika: **Throws laptop at Maddies' head** YOUR EFFING TURN THIS IS HARD!

TheHatter: OWW! **rubs head** You could have _asked _**sniffle**. So, now that Rika's dealt out her daily dosage of abuse, one with MY author's notes. Well, for one thing this is the first time I've ever co-written something. And (despite the high pain threshold required to survive) it has worked out fantastically! Almost effortless (eccept doding the missiles- she has a strong right arm. And left arm. But mostly right). JK people- please don't kill Rika. I need her to write this. Anyway, I love Kuro and Fai. If you read this far, I'm sure you do to! So, if you want more, review- it's how we know we're doing something right! And keep reading fangirls- it will come. You _know _what I mean.

TheHatter

RxR: Wow. So… Anyways, we promise lemons, whole baskets of them.

THM: **Jumps in front of and breaks in** And limes!

RxR: And limes. And all citrus. NOW LEAVE! **Throws out window** Bye, readers! Thanks for reading my first (published) fic ever!Come back soon~~~!

THM: **shouts from far, _far _away** (I told you she had a strong right-and left- arm!) GOOD-BYE MY FANS!

RxR: **shuts window**


	2. Chapter 2

**[A/N]** THM: Hey guys! Good news- I recovered enough from my injuries to make sure this chapter turned out the way it was supposed to! As always, in case we haven't mentioned, we don't own Tsubasa or anyone in it, although we _are _making attempts on your behalf- Rika is bidding for Fai (who is quite cheerful about all this) on the black market while I am building a case to sue for Kurogane. As you have been warned, this is M rated for a reason, but will _not _be apparent in this chapter. Even so, watch out- the yaoi _is _coming. And this is written equally by me and Rika- without her it wouldn't happen. So please favorite and review on _at least _one of our accounts! Thanks for reading! And yes, we _are _mean authors. Why, you ask? Read to find out.

TheHatter

**[Fai]**

Before night fell, I let Syaoran and Sakura help me change the bandages. I didn't want to, but I had screwed with them enough. They didn't deserve my selfishness. So I held back the sick feeling whenever they touched him and only averted them a little over half the time, asking them to hold bottles of antiseptic, or gauze, even scissors so that _I _could tend to him. The wound was ugly- deep, and jagged, made by one of the odd serrated swords that were so popular here. The flesh around the wound was mottled pink and irritated, something that set off alarm bells. I put on more antiseptic, and prayed to whatever sick thing might listen to a bastard like me that it would be better in the morning. Not all Gods answer the prayers of the deserving- if the ones on this world did, then I was in trouble.

I knew myself well enough that I wouldn't sleep tonight. Even if I tried, which I didn't. At all. Instead, I kept my seat next to Kuro's bed. My legs were cramping up from sitting so long, and I still didn't move. Some people would have paced, but I just sat. Why move? Why bother? I couldn't think of any reason that I was worth the effort.

My hand rested on Kurogane's forehead- burning up. On an inkling, I switched from his strangly dry to forehead to his cool cheek. Kuro was _never _like this- nor was anyone else. _Ever_. A chill went down my spine. Normally the ninja was warm to the touch, this skin not soft and yet oddly smooth. Even in snow storms, he had never gotten as cold as his cheeks were now, nor had his skin ever had that dried out feeling to them. I grabbed his hand- cold, dry, limp and lifeless. I felt the beginnings of panic welling up and I clamped down on them.

It _had _to be the blood loss. _He lost blood before,_ a snide voice insisted. _Not this much_, I told it. It wasn't right. He shouldn't have been unconscious, and there was no way that anyone should have been able to be that feverish and still be as cold as he was. It was unnatural, just like the paper-white palor under his dark complexion. Just like the way his skin didn't glow with health. Just like the way his eyes didn't move behind his lids and if I wasn't touching him it seemed as if he had stopped breathing. Kurogane was a deep breather; especially in sleep- I could always see the rise of his chest and know when he had fallen asleep. He was still.

I pushed back his hair, even though his headband kept it back already. I didn't want to take it off. Taking it off when he never did would mean something was wrong. I pushed back his thick, almost coarse but too-soft hair again. And again. And again. It was dark, and watching it move over my pale fingers, tangling and catching on them was enthralling. Even as he was, his hair was _exactly _the same. I had always wanted to muss it. I caught myself and I pulled away.

I could hear his breathing, a rough sound between a weeze, a whisper and a sigh. It sounded like the air was whistling in and out of his lungs instead of him drawing it smoothly in and out as usual. Eerie. _Wrong._

I made a decision. I stood in the door, opened it a crack and peered out- nothing but shadows. I walked down the hall, searching for Syaoran's room- distinguished by the fact that he alone never closed the door. I stood in the shadow beside the door frame, where I would be invisible from inside the room and peeked inside the room. As I'd hoped, Mokona was sleeping on the bed with- Sakura? I looked around, and found Syaoran dozing, leaning against the bed. They must've been talking, and Sakura fell asleep. Syaoran, being who he was, would have just put her in his bed, and most likely would've camped out on the couch if he hadn't fallen asleep first. I almost smiled, as I picked up the small, white creature that was Mokona Modoki. I carried him back to Kurogane's room, and whistled three, long, quiet notes- no one woke, but the red jewel on Mokona's head lit up, casting a circular picture of Yuuko-san in the air. She was reclining, laid languidly back on a low couch-like thing- I could tell be her posture though I could only see her from her shoulders and above, smoking her long pipe. She blew out a long, slow stream of smoke then turned to me slowly.

"Ah. Mage-san." She sounded unsurprised "You haven't called me yet" she noted, holding her pipe out of the way.

"No," I told her.

"You require my assistance?" I couldn't quite tell, but I thought one brow lifted a little, but it was so close to the witch's normal expression that I couldn't be sure.

"Yes."

Yuuko nodded. I explained.

"I . . ." I swallowed hard, trying to say it. "I . . ." my throat closed. I took a deep, steady breath and decided that I _would _say it now. "I think it might be poisoned."

Yuuko glanced over at Kurogane's sleeping form on the bed behind me, then at something over her shoulder. Her face was the same blankly expressionless one she always wore, at least when she wasn't teasing someone.

"What is your wish?" She asked. No inflection, no expression, nothing. She just stared into my very being with red eyes, so similar to his and yet nothing like them.

I bit my lip, glanced at Kurogane out of the corner of my eye, then down at my hands in my lap. My wish.What _was _my wish? I bit my lip harder, almost drawing blood. What was my wish?

"I could find out." She informed me, a statement of a fact I already knew.

"What would it cost?" I asked, nerves creeping coldly like a snake of icy needles up my spine.

"Not more than you can pay." She said. "But more than you will."

I stopped meeting her intensely blank red gaze to look at the floor, Kuro just visible on the periphery of my sight. I looked back at Yuuko. I touched Mokona, brushed my fingers against his foot. The image of Yuuko wavered. There was a moment of static, then she was gone, just as if she had never been.

I put Mokona back with Syaoran and Sakura, my steps silent, and went back to sit in the chair Sakura had found for me. I leaned my elbows on my thighs and stared into the space between my knees. _Not more than you can pay. More than you will. _Yuuko's eyes, when she told me this, said that she knew, knew more than the price. Maybe it came with being the Time-Space Witch, seeing all eventualities, always _knowing._ Maybe it was just millennia of experience. But she _knew. _And that scared me.

**[At Yuuko's Shop]**

"Yuuko-san! Yuuko-san, someone's here!" Watanuki called, his voice carrying oddly through the shop.

"Yuuko-san?" He asked curiously, poking his head around the door frame. He caught sight of the circle projecting from Mokona, and fell silent, watching for a moment as the man in it finished saying something he couldn't make out.

Yuuko glanced over her shoulder at him, giving him a look. Watanuki nodded, straightened his ruffled apron and stood waiting.

"What is your wish?" She asked. The man spoke again, but his voice crackled and from the door Watanuki couldn't understand him. He was blond, tall and thin, but dressed in strange clothes. He was vaguely familiar, and Watanuki was sure he had seen him somewhere, if only very brieflt.

"I could find out" Yuuko told him. Watanuki felt the goose bumps rise on his back. Yuuko wasn't usually that serious, that . . . . .cold. And wasn't that one of the men traveling with Sakura-chan? What was he asking for, he wondered, a brow creasing in worry for the group.

The mage spoke again, looking a little wary.

"Not more than you can pay, but more than you will." Yuuko sounded certain, and a bit odd. What was off about the conversation? Watanuki thought as the man bit his lip. _What was so __**wrong**_? More than you will. That was it. Yuuko _never _influenced people's choices. She gave options, but never, _never_ opinions, not even vague factual ones like that. _What _was the man asking for? And what was the price? Would he pay? His face said that he didn't want to.

Then, suddenly, the circle was gone. "Yuuko-san?" Watanuki asked tentatively, stepping uncertainly forward. Yuuko took a slow puff on her pipe and looked at him out of the corner of her eye.

"Yes, Watanuki?"

"Was. . . was something wrong with . ." He struggled for a moment, trying to remember his name "Fai-san? You were acting so strangely . . ."

Yuuko smiled, a tiny bitter curl of her lips. "It depends. _He_ probably thinks so."

"Yuuko-san. . ."He propped a fist on his hip, fixing her with an impatient look behind his glasses. Yuuko smiled a little wider- her apprentice was learning.

"We stopped pretending" She said slowly. She took another puff on her pipe, and Watanuki watched the smoke coil against the ceiling. "It has to happen sometime."

"He didn't get what he wanted to ask for did he?" Watanuki asked it, but it wasn't a question so much as a realization aloud.

"No." Yuuko met his eyes.

"But he'll be back." Yuuko watched the smoke curl lazily around. "You know what would go perfectly with this pipe? The sake I got from the Oden-fox. Bring it to me!" She said, her usual demeanor setting around her like a comfortable cloak.

Watanuki shouted angrily. "You have a customer!"

"I don't care. I want liqueur!"

"Arrrg. I will get the sake. . . . You deal with your customer!" Watanuki commanded, and Yuuko pretended to pout. As she walked down the hall, she said to herself, quietly, "He'll be back. They _always_ come back."

**[A/N]** RxR: First off, e-cookies to the people who gave me my first 2 reviews, KendraheartsFox and Hazureskywar! YAY! So, at first Yuuko was only going to appear very briefly, and watanuki wasn't going to show up at all, but they wormed in somehow. Ah, well, I love Kimihiro-kun, so it's okay. And Yuuko-chan is meh drinking buddy! **Toasts**

THM: Wait. Wait-wait-wait-wait-_wait!_ Rika got reviews? **looks around desperately**. And I got _NONE?_ _**WHYYYY?**_ Why have my fans deserted me? Do the readers hate me? I think you hate me. No reviews=no love fic=no love me= **sobs in corner**

B-bye (sniffled) **returns to corner, depressed Tama-kun style**

RxR: Oh, dear. Not this again. Okay, _you_ guys rate and review, _I'll_ get her to stop being depressed and write. **Sighs** Oh, dear…


	3. Chapter 3

**[A/N] **RxR: Two whole chapters in one day! Maddie, come look at our little ficlet!

**Silence**

Hatter?

**More silence**

Mad? Hattie? Mad-Hattie? Hat-Maddie? _**MADDIE-HAT!**_

**No response**

Oh, she's sulking about the reviews thing. Reveiw! _**REVIEW!**_

**[Two days later]**

**[Sakura]** Fai-san had changed. He didn't want us to notice, but he did. I did what little I could, cooking and making tea for him, even though I don't think he's eating. His smile was forced, and he couldn't keep it up all the time either. Seeing Kurogane-san get worse every day, with nothing he could do to help- it was killing him. He thought it was all his fault, even though none of us blamed him and I felt Kurogane-san wouldn't have either if he had been awake. He probably would have called Fai-san an idiot like he always does when he wants Fai to stop being sad.

"Sakura-chan! Where's the extra bedding?" asked Syaoran, walking into the kitchen, where I was cooking.

"The little closet between your room and Fai-san's room. Why?" I asked him curiously, putting the food aside.

"I'm putting a futon in the room."

I turned around, pulling off my apron. "Kurogane-san's room? Why?"

"For Fai." He said.

"But he should be sleeping in his own bed, shouldn't he?" I said, stopping what I'd been doing- putting out plates, and doling out pork buns.

"He'll want to stay with Kurogane. He's been sleeping on that chair in there anyway, the least I can do is make sure he can at least be comfortable. " Syaoran said, before turning away and beginning to walk down the hall. Almost too quiet for me to hear, he added, "I know how he feels."

I glanced after him, almost forgetting the pan of half-cooked eggs I was holding. Syaoran-kun had finally stopped looking sad like that, I thought. I want back to frying the eggs, the way Fai-san had taught me, and I had to make sure to put on a smile before I brought the breakfast tray.

**[Fai] **Sakura, as always brought breakfast in about an hour after sunrise. Today, as always, there were two cups of tea and a bowl of soup for Kuro. For me, there were two steaming pork buns that someone had bought at a bakery, a fried egg and a bowl of miso soup. Sakura had prepared them exactly the way I taught her, and on another day, _any _other day I would have been proud of her, pleased for her small success. I probably would have praised her.

It was work for me to glance up and give her a tired smile that was worn around the edges from over use. It was the only thing I had left. Sakura smiled back, bright and cheerful as ever, reached out and paused. Her hand wavered, extended there and I could see the conflict in her features- touch or don't touch? I poured the smile on a little harder, hoping she would think I was alright. Her hand stopped shaking and she squeezed my shoulder, her small hand gentle, but still comforting. I froze, stiff and unmoving, my lips pinched. She left and I couldn't move. I couldn't stand her sympathy- didn't she understand that this was my fault? Innocent, clueless Sakura felt bad for me. Was probably worrying her pure heart sick over Kurogane and I. She should have shunned me, should have abandoned me. Hated me. I was a coward, letting her care for me like that.

I laughed, a foreign, high and brittle sound that was wild, and a little crazy bubbling up from somewhere between my chest and the pit of my stomach. It didn't stop. By the time Syaoran came in to see if I needed anything, right on schedule, I had almost returned my breathing to the proper rate, holding myself back until he passed by.

The minute his footsteps turned the corner, another laugh escaped me. Then, I was laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. My stomach ached, and I braced my elbows on the bed so I could laugh into my hands, my shoulders shaking with the strength of it until I was just sitting there, panting. It took a while to catch my breath, but I managed.

I pushed back my hair, slightly oily from lack of washing, straightened my shirt a little and used a towel to drip water drop by drop between Kuro's lips.

There was a sound from the door, and I saw Syaoran out of the corner of my eye. As I turned to look, he and Sakura came in, arms full. She carried a tray of breakfast laden with dishes of breakfast food, him the tea tray. I tilted my head, momentarily confused. I already _had _the food I wouldn't eat for this meal. Then, they set down the trays at the foot of the bed and sat, one on either side of it. Syaoran poured the tea, and Sakura put two eggs, two pork buns, and a bowl of the miso soup on each of their plates, neither so much as glancing in my direction. I stared.

Then, I wet the towel, which had dripped all its water onto my leg and went back to work.

**[A/N]** THM: *To Rika* I'm not talking to them until they review. I don't _feel_ like it. Just like _they_ don't _feel_ like reviewing. **Walks away**

RxR: Oh-kay then.


	4. Chapter 4

**[A/N] THM: ** I'm ba~ack! And you all have KuRoHiTsUzEn to thank! KuRo- your one review is the reason I have returned, for which you get an e-cookie! Also, e-cookies to **Irene Gerke**, **SurrieTheYaoiQueen** and **KendraheartsFox**_**. **_You guys are the best!

_**[Dusk that day]**_

**[Fai]** The lack of anything that improves health (food, sleep, sunlight) other than tea had started to make me both light headed and mildly nauseated as well as headachy. Which didn't make me in the least inclined to obtain those things, contrary to common sense.

It didn't help that I had spent most of the day trying to get Kurogane to swallow a bite of over-cooked porridge. I tried to press the glands on his throat to make him swallow, but even when they _did _work, the food refused to go down. After about an hour and a half I sat back, holding one hands so tight that my knuckles showed an odd color under my already too-pale skin. Tired and thinking fuzzily when at all, I had only one thought. _Fuck this. Fuck swallowing. Fuck food. Fuck. Just fuck. _I stared at the lump of oatmeal, just visible inside his mouth. I used the spoon to fish the gunk out of his mouth, flung it angrily back into the bowl and shoved the whole thing aside. I thought for a second and threw it out the window.

The last thing I wanted was Sakura or Syaoran to start asking why Kurogane wasn't eating and was he okay. Kuro was never the one to bring up food, and he never made much ado about eating, preferring to eat something with rice in it out of a small bowl with two sticks, though I still don't know how that works. Somehow, this prevented everyone else from noticing the stack of eight, and often more bowls growing at his elbow as he ate in silence. It had been three and a half days since he ate, and by the looks of it he had lost close to six or seven pounds. His hands looked thinner, his cheeks had begun to hollow, and when I lifted him to change his bandages, he was far too light.

He _should _have been up. _Would _have been up if not for me. And even aside from my incompetence, Kurogane had never taken so long to heal. He had taken swords straight through his abdomen and been conscious sooner after than this. I couldn't see any of the normal signs of poison on the wound, but it hadn't healed at all either.

I watched as the sun slowly set on the windowsill, leaving shadows to fall over Kurogane. Usually, it made him look dangerous. Now, he looked weak and ill. I felt sick, almost on the verge of trying to upend my empty stomach. I swallowed hard and pressed my lips together as I waited for it to settle.

"Dinner's almost ready." Syaoran told me quietly from the doorway. I glanced up at him, relieved that I didn't see the pitying sympathy written all over Sakura's pretty face . I nodded, and wrung out the wet towel I'd been using to try to make Kurogane drink, folding it carefully to lay it across his forehead, no longer covered by its protective armor. When I glanced back, he was gone again.

It was a bit of a relief- I didn't want to have to deal with him or Sakura anymore. I didn't want to live with myself. I was too much of a weak, fearful bastard to do a damn thing about any of it.

Then, Sakura walked in with my dinner on a tray. She handed it to me quietly, without saying a word. I did my usual bit of smiling and nodding, taking the tray. She smiled and left the room again. I was just about to settle into the comfortable solitude when she and Syaoran returned, each carrying a tray. They sat at the foot of Kurogane's bed, just like they had at breakfast. I smiled, for real. It was so cute.

I almost wanted to say something, but if there were words that wouldn't feel stupid, they were far out of my grasp, so I just smiled and took a sip of the tea.

At first, I was a bit uncomfortable, just waiting for one of them to try to start a conversation, but the opened never came. They just sat, Syaoran cross-legged, and Sakura leaning on the foot of the bed with her legs folded under her and began to cheerfully eat their dinner. Much to my displeasure, they seemed bent on taking their time. I hoped they would leave soon, or they would definitely notice that I wasn't eating and I wasn't sure what I could tell them that wouldn't make things worse.

So instead, I took spoonfuls of tea, blew them cool and slowly poured them down Kurogane's throat. Apparently, the old herbalist who managed to sell it to Sakura said it would improve any ailment. Judging by the pungent medicinal smell, I wasn't sure I doubted it, though I was also fairly certain Sakura had been had. Either way, the stuff couldn't possibly be hurting him.

In the time it took for Syaoran, a light eater in the evenings, to finish his dinner, I managed to get a full half-cup into him which was quite an impressive feat even though the handleless little cups were dwarfed by my hands, and made infinitely smaller when compared to Kuro's.

"Here Hime- I'll take my tray to the kitchen. You stay here" Syoaran told her, smiling a warm smile to halt her protests.

"Wait- Fai-san hasn't eaten anything." She noted, a worried frown twisting her face in concern. She turned to look at up at me, hands on my knee.

"You didn't like it? Did I make the wrong thing?" She asked me, clearly upset at what she seemed to think was her inability to help anyone. I shook my head at her in what I hoped was reassurance, forcing a smile. "I didn't cook it right, did I?" She asked quietly, eyes averted. She looked absolutely heart-broken. I sighed, too quietly for her to hear.

"No, of course you did" I told her, still smiling, and acutely aware of her tiny hands on my leg, focing me to pay attention. She blinked, didn't seem to quite believe me for a second, then her face cleared.

"Are you sick then?" She asked innocently. Then she reached up, trying to put her hand on my forehead. I jumped back in the chair, throwing my body out of the way of her hand, my heart slamming in my throat. _Don't touch me. Don't touch me-don't touch me-don't touch me. _Shaking I stared at her. Looking like she was about to cry, she helf-fell half stumbled back, arms held in front of her like she didn't know what she was supposed to do with them.

_What have I done?_ Syaoran, already standing, pulled an arm around her shoulder, frowning in confusion at me. _What did I do? _Handling Sakura carefully, like she was made of porcelain, he lead her out of the room. He glanced back, just once as he turned away, his eyes asking me _'Why?'. _His face said _'How __**could **__you?'. _Then he was gone.

I tried to breathe, but I was shaking to hard to draw in air steadily. I was frozen in place, unable to do anything. _What had I done? _They had to hate me now. Syaoran if not Sakura- she couldn't hate the devil. Maybe, even so, she could hate me. I destroyed everything.

Always, anything I touched, I destroyed. First Kuro, then Sakura. How had I thought that this could be any different than before? Shaking, I fell forward onto my knees, arms braced on the side of the bed. There was a soft _plop _as the first tear fell on my bare arm. Then more. I tried to stay quiet, let the tears run their course. Instead, a broken sob, rose up from my chest, and forced its way past my lips, leaving me breathless. Once my breath was gone, I couldn't catch it. I collapsed into broken, shuddering sobs, my body fallen against the side of the bed, my shoulders heaving with the force. My chest ached, as did my lungs, and I couldn't breathe, but I couldn't stop, shuddering and gasping as hot tears ran down my face. _Stupid._

**[Syaoran]**

After the princess fell asleep, I went to go get the dinner tray from Kurogane-san's room. Standing in the door frame, I stopped, feeling my anger at Fai-san soften.

He was kneeling on the floor, half collapsed on the bed, sobbing. It was sad- big broken gasping sobs shook his shoulders, a pathetic broken thing to watch. When the princess cried, or sometimes other girls, they looked delicate and sensitive, or emotional. Fai just looked like a pathetic broken thing, his face red and puffy and swollen from tears. I felt bad thinking it, but it was true- it _is _ugly when a man cries.

As I had thought, Fai-san had his reasons. It was no excuse for upsetting Hime, but still. He had his reasons. Everyone did. Another shuddering sob shook his shoulders, not quiet or restrained, but an uncontrollable sound that echoed eerily in the still, dark room.

Part of me wanted to go to him, but if I went to him he would have stopped crying, and that would have been bad. No matter what had happened to us, even though his past was bad, Fai-san had always smiled, even when he wasn't happy at all. It was probably for our sake, at least somewhat. Maybe he just didn't know how to cope. It was really none of my business either way.

Fai shook, falling against the bed with a whimpering gasp and I closed my eyes turning away. I had planned on staying to watch over the mage, but I couldn't. Watching him, broken down and crying like this, was somehow innately wrong, intruding on something that was clearly a private moment. He whimpered again, his face propped in narrow fingers that shook wildly and I caught another glimpse of his face, mottled an ugly pink almost as if he had been slapped. I turned away, unable to watch anymore. I walked away, keeping my footsteps silent. I lay down on my futon in the room Sakura and I shared and stared at the ceiling, seeing Fai-san's tear stained face. With a soft sigh, I put the image out of my mind, and went to sleep.

**[A/N] THM:** Well, Rika couldn't be with me to write these, so it's I have to do it all on my lonesome. **pouts**. So, who thinks we're mean authors _now?_ **evil laughter** Okay, just kidding. We just like to put characters through hell because there isn't any other way for them to grow and get betterer. And isn't Syaoran's POV nice? I was so pleased with it! Aside from that, we still don't own Tsubasa or anything in it (flips over pamphlets, circling lawyer's phone number) due to my fail of an imaginary lawyer. That out of the way, you guys know the drill- read and review! Maybe that way I'll _stay _in good spirits.

Hatter, out!


	5. AUTHOR'S NOTE

**AUTHORS' NOTE: Interlude from the story**

**RxR: **So, we decided to make the original story, _Full Circle_, into two different stories, _Full Circle_ and _Broken Circle, _mostly so don't have to choose between the cute, fluffy side of Kuro and Fai's relationship or the darker, sexier side. (Hee hee). So we'll write both. _Broken Circle _will be featured on my profile under my name, and _Full Circle _will be under Maddie's name on her profile. (But, we will still both participate equally in both stories and lemons and all manner of citrus will be present in both. Fai and Kuro will just be bigger dramallamas in _Broken Circle._)

Now, onto more important matters. Namely se-

**THM: **Namely I don't get _why _I'm letting her do this to me. I think I'm recreating Tama's mushroom garden. _In Rika's bed._ She uses words like _dramallama_. _Drama-effin-llama_ for god's sake. Does that scream fluff and joy at any one else here? But no. _She_ gets the smexied-up version. Even though _I'm _an angst magnet. Oh, yes, sure- _now _Karma has a taste for the literary elements at play in my life. _Irony. _Ha. Ha ha ha. Hardy har har. . . . . . . bitch. You suck. . . . . . .

**RxR: **….. One, keep the mushrooms out of my bed. Two, dramallamas kick your ass. Three, I won the bet. You said the coin would land heads for the smexy version and you were wrong, so there.

**THM:** And now gravity gets to decide how my writing is represented to the fandom? And my career? And my _entire life as an author? _So much for god damn serendipity and fate. . . . . ***Scoff***

**RxR: **You said rock-paper-scissors wouldn't cut it. This is all your fault. But I get the awesum-sauce version, so nya. xP

**THM:** So basically you suck and the only way you can win things from me is by sheer dumb luck. . . . .ok. Your sheer dumb luck wins because Karma is _still _holding that grudge for the time it ran over my dogma and got blood splattered on it. Ok, fine. _**FINE **_ goddammit. I made an enemy of the cosmic force. I hate cosmic . . . thingies. ***flops dramatically on bed*** ***looks up; scowl-slash-death-glare***

**RxR: ****Pushes out window** My luck is very smart. Besides, Sakura-chan has amazing luck. It's a skill, luck is. I have a skill you don't. Suck it. **Slams window shut**

**THM:** ***writes message on window in fogged-up breath *** . . . . **sigh** _Please _go look at _Full Circle_. And please, please, _please _go review it. You don't even have to read it. Just leave a review or a comment or anything at all that's to do with something I wrote (Like _Broken Circle_) over there, alright? Do it, and I'll try to keep writing under these depressing conditions. . . . for the fans!

RxR: **Sigh** Okay. Parting note, the stories are exactly the same up until chapter 4, so don't worry about which one you've been reading.


	6. Chapter 6

**[A/N]** Maddie Hat: I've got to say I'm pretty damn well pleased by be back in business. Or back in action or whatever. I'm also pretty damn well pleased that we wrote so much. Rika, we are a pair of damn fine authors. In any case, we're very sorry for all these delays and waiting. To make it up to you we spent about three solid days slaving on this. It took some work, and quite a bit to get the three days to do this on, and then go and . .. .well . . . .do it. But we did! And it's quite wonderful, too! So, yes, we're back! **cheers** Whoot!

RaddxRika: You be a damn fine author. I'm just damn fine. ANYways, KuroFai. Meh. Fai is no longer a mopey emo kid. But we have a had a hell of a time deciding- go sexy or fluffy? SO! Our deciosion is, let the fangirls decide. This is fluffy. Note that this will not be all love and joy either, but…. The sexy one could get quite dark. Fangirls…. Tell us. What do we do? Write just this one? Or both? Hmm. Without futher ado, Kurofai.

**[Fai]** Energy sapped, I sat down hard; shaking with the effort it took to breathe. I slumped against the bed, unable to support my body as I tried to fill my lungs with shuddering breaths.

Finally able to breathe, I ground a fist into my eyes, wiping away the tears that lingered there. My eyes were swollen and I had to force my jaw to stop trembling. I hated being this way. Weak. _Pathetic._ I took a deep breath, stopping the tiny tremors in my fingers, then used the chair to pull myself up to my feet. My whole body was stiff and my legs cramped. They would have given out and dropped me on the floor if I hadn't braced my arms on the chair and used them to support all my weight. I grimaced, waiting for the painful spasming to stop, then finally stood on my own.

I took another deep breath, checked the hallway- empty- and headed for the kids' room. It was easy to slip in and pick up the sleeping Mokona from where he lie, sleeping in the middle of the floor and rolling about in typical Mokona style. Then Syaoran-kun shifted, muttering as if he was awake and I froze. There wasn't a way to explain this, and after earlier, I simply wouldn't be forgiven. He stilled and I hurried out of the room. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see the princess, curled tightly into herself and looking painfully forlorn even in sleep. _My fault._

Back in the room I set Mokona down and whistled the notes to command his magic on dry lips that didn't want to obey. The faint outline of the circle appeared, white and flickering. It crackled for a moment, then cleared to show a sakura in full bloom. Then it tilted wildly, bringing the witch into view.

She blinked and paused a moment.

"So you called back" She drawled, setting down a sake cup. She was perched sideways on something so she was looking at me sidelong, her bangs falling across her face while the rest of her hair was piled up in a sloppy knotted bun which seemed to be fastened by a long lacquered rod.

"Ah! Yuuko-san- hey isn't-" Shouted a boy a little behind her, flailing so it looked like he had more joints that any human had a right to, even as she interrupted him.

"Wata~nuki~kun! Bring me sa~ke!" She sang lightly, not turning even a hair in his direction, though she shot him a lopsided grin- she put on smiles better than I did.

"B-b-but!" He sputtered ,shooting me a look, then stumbling and flailing his arms (and his whole body at that) wildly as he came to a stop right behind her. "_Yuuko-san_" He whined, glancing again at me. I stared blankly ahead, a smile plastered on although I knew I looked awful. Crying always made me ugly, and I could see that he knew in his face. I smiled. He shouted at Yuuko, clearly infuriated."It's back at the shop! Why didn't you _tell me _before we left, dammit! And, besides-"

"Shut up" Someone said bluntly, their low voice toneless and bored. It was another boy, perched on a boulder a little ways farther back with a sake cup in his hand to match Yuuko's. He had dark hair; dark eyes and a very cool unflappable look about him. He had some kind of power, I could see, as did the other boy, just by looking at them. None too pleased, the first boy, Watanuki, gaped for a second then began to shout at him, waving his fists angrily. The boy plugged his ears, looking a bit irritated if resigned to the fact that this was expected, but didn't otherwise react. Obviously, the two were close and this was a common occurrence. Among the shouts I could hear Watanuki's indignant "Are you even _listening_?". They were. . . . ._strange_. I decided. Strange.

"Go on then," Yuuko told him, flapping her hands dismissively at him with a self-satisfied grin.

"B-but . . ."He glanced from me to Yuuko again worry on his face, and I made sure not to pay attention to him or meet those kind blue eyes. I was sure it would be bad. Yuuko turned around to face him, her posture and movements lazy though I could feel the steely intent about her.

"Kimihiro" She told him coolly, "_Bring me. The sake."_ She said quietly, her voice toneless. The boy blinked, stumbled a few awkward steps backwards, turned in a tangle of limbs and half-fell, half-sprinted at a clumsy run down a paved path in the background.

"He's going to hurt himself like that," The boy commented, his low voice dull in the background. His eyes were level, staring directly after Watanuki, then shifting to pin Yuuko. He glanced at me for a split second, his eyes blank- or perhaps, far too knowing- and then went back to staring into the space behind Watanuki. He never moved, keeping his hands clasped loosely behind his knees the whole time. It was almost resignation, as before, but without the sense of defeat that resignment brought. Clearly, he was used to this sort of thing, and the other boys antics in general. I couldn't help feeling a little bad for him- Watanuki seemed to be a bit wild- if not much- Watanuki was too kind for me to _really _feel bad for him. Yuuko sighed.

"Why don't you follow him Doumeki-kun? Make sure he doesn't hurt himself," Yuuko suggested, her eyes blank, expression dryly amused.

"Yeah" He replied in that one, low and toneless gravelly syllable. Then he rose, following the still-flailing figure away from Yuuko. The Witch turned to me, dropping all pretense. "You decided?"

"I'll do it. I'll pay whatever, I don't even care. Just…" I thought of Kurogane, pale and already gaunt. "Just help him."

Yuuko nodded, understanding. "I have a bandage. Wind it around his wound and it will draw the poison. Don't take it off until the wound heals completely, or else it won't work again, and he'll have to fight the poison himself."

I nodded, noting the instructions carefully. I would relay them to Sakura and Syaoran later. "The price?"

"I'll send you a crystal with the bandages. Hold it against your forehead until it grows warm; then send it back. The price will be paid in full."

I nodded. I didn't care what was being taken. Magic, time, sight. I'd pay. And I'd know what I paid later. She sent the bandages and a small, cerulean jewel through Mokona to my side, and I did as told. The crystal felt cool in my palm. I stared down into its swirled blue depths- _what would it take from me?_

I was beginning to realize that it no longer mattered- I just wanted Kuro to be healthy again. Healthy enough to complain about me, or threaten me, or grumble at Syaoran because he couldn't manage to really be mean to him, or even mutter gruffly at Sakura. Just healthy. Then the rest could be worried about. Things like feathers, and the next world, and the people following us and all those worries that seemed to move far, far away when the sword hit him. We could worry about it later. We would have to, eventually. I took the bandage, gathered some resolve, and I decided to set to work- the sooner the better. Because soon couldn't be soon enough.

I pressed the stone to my head quickly and gracelessly. I held my breath, squeezing my eyes closed. It didn't take long for the crystal to become warm, and I pulled it away from my forehead fast, like it had burned me. In one motion, I opened Mokona's mouth and popped the stone in. Yuuko held it up, showing it to me from her side. "I have it," She said. Then, she smiled softly. "Go." The command was a kind one, and I bowed to her and rushed out the door, just catching a glimpse of the circle blinking out as she cut the connection.

I didn't think. I made Kurogane's shirt fly off of him. I neither knew nor cared where it ended up, just that it got off of his too-thin, unhealthy body _now. _My fingers were racing over his skin, flying across the smooth planes of dark muscles, hollowed out by sickness. And as I smoothed away the old bandages, heedless of the blood- of _his _blood- on my hands, my palms were grazing him, brushing his skin and not pulling away from the hot, hot burning of his skin on mine. Even though his skin wasn't warm. _Then how? But why. . .? _My mind tried to rationalize. _Doesn't matter._ My heart's slamming was uneven and my breathing wasn't as easy as I was used to. _Why? _My thoughts demanded crazily. _Does it matter? _And they shut up.

And then suddenly my hands were empty and the bandages were gone, leaving just Kurogane and the ugly wound, marking him. It didn't take away from his powerful dark looks. It added something. _Danger_. My thoughts informed me. I shut them up and shoved them down a well. They deserved it if they broke something along the way. They snickered as my eyes lingered on the lean lines of Kurogane's abs and chest, raking over the still-finely-carved contours. I felt something building up in me and I couldn't name it or identify it, but I couldn't sit still, couldn't bear to.

I snatched the roll of Yuuko's bandages unseeingly from wherever-the-hell it was I'd put them. My fingers were already thoughtlessly, hurriedly scrabbling to undo the end. I started at his right hip, a sharp curving bone that jutted slightly out beneath tan skin pulled too tight. Something in my guts fluttered and I hoped it wouldn't make me sick with the power of all that heat. I started wrapping, my hands once more grazing him, making fire sear up my arms as my fingers and sometimes palms brushed or pressed against a six pack built onto a narrow build or his powerful pectorals. There was nothing else; nothing anywhere in the universe but him under my hands. I knew this was _not _how I should have been doing this. I knew I was careful, attentive to the tiniest thread out of place, but I should have been more delicate. It was a serious injury. And yet my hands were not light on him. I refused to question that, merely continuing to bandage.

And then I was tucking the end of the bandage neatly into the overlapping bandaging just where his shoulder met his side, making it disappear seamlessly into the neat-to-the-point-of-near-perfection wrappings, hovering over my work. I didn't realize I was holding my breath until I took my hands away from my finished job and let it go, head light with the lack of air. And then, quite suddenly, I realized what I had been doing. Letting my hands wander all over Kurogane. He was poisoned. Poisoned and unconscious; possibly nearing death and I was . . .

My face twisted into something else; a dark mask of sneering hatred. _I was sick. Just a sick, disturbed excuse for a friend. _Kurogane deserved better. I was disgusted with my own lack of morals. I looked at him and I wanted to look at him longer. I yanked the blanket up over him, feeling a vicious kind of dark satisfaction at the sharp pang I felt when I could no longer see him. _Good. I deserve it. I deserve the punishment._ I looked at him, and in my mind I saw his body. I got up out of the chair. I made it to the bathroom before I retched again and again. My stomach brought up something like water that burned my throat, and then more and more of it. The taste of it in my mouth made me feel even sicker than I had, and my head was light and my stomach had begun to ache while my throat was as raw as if it's lining had been destroyed. I gagged again. And then another time.

And then, there was nothing left. I remembered the way my gaze had felt on Kurogane and I felt so sick that I retched again, bringing up some remnant I didn't know I had in me. My stomach tried painfully to empty itself, and this time truly had nothing to offer the bucket that was nearest me when it rebelled, so I heaved. Overand over and agonizingly over I collapsed on the floor, and curled slightly where I lay, my stomach contracting as it tried to empty itself of my sin. Failing this, eventually, it just stopped, leaving me laying beside the old iron bucket, my cheek pressed on the cold floor. I could smell the former contents of my stomach, and I felt nauseous again for a moment- I was sick and disgusted. I ignored the dull exhaustion in my muscles and bones and forced myself to drag my body off the floor. I stood. Somehow I didn't fall. So I walked.

I washed my face with water so cold it hurt. I lurched, slightly uneven in my walk out of that tiny, shameful room and I went into the bedroom and I didn't look at Kurogane. I put the futon into the corner of the room, turned toward the wall, and stared through the darkness at what I knew was wall an inch from my nose. The darkness was thinning, so I closed my eyes and the darkness swallowed me.

**[Kurogane]** It was dark. Not the transparent dark of night where my eyes could still see movement, but complete dark. That was all there was. Everything was just black, all my senses. I didn't fight it. I waited.

And slowly, other things began to creep in around the edges. I was laying down. Then there was the pain, a dull aching throb all across my torso. Then, the memories coming back starting at where I blacked out; the mage's face, blurred almost beyond recognizing above me. Taking the hit and falling. The fight.

I was unconscious then, for who-knew-how-long. I tried to move, and it was like my body belonged to someone else; heavy and unmoving like rock. The slash, deep and gaping burned. It hadn't healed, I could tell. I tried to open my eyes, but I could only stare at the back of my lids and the inside of my head. I stopped trying- it was a waste of energy and I didn't have enough energy to burn it up pointlessly.

Then there was something else. There were hands. They were cold, and the way they moved bothered me. But everything was still fuzzy. I waited, and things cleared. The kid's hands didn't move that way and neither did the princess's. They weren't bold enough. Neither of them would dream of touching me like this. They were too good for it; and too young. They were too decent to degrade my body while I was passed out. The mage.

Slowly, I felt the burning fury uncurl in my stomach behind the wound. _How could he. How __**dare **__he. _I wanted to snarl, but my body was completely disconnected from me, like that of a stranger. He was undoing my bandages, and his fingers were trailing on my skin. His palms brushed against me, and where he touched me, his touch lingered, pressing slightly because I could tell he didn't want to part- could tell in the way he seemed to have to pull his hands away. And it didn't matter for even half a second how goddamned good it felt. It didn't matter how my body seemed to burn at the touch of that bastard's hadns, burning fire rising to it the way cats did to people stupid enough to pet them. My fury was filling me up; pounding on my skull, right behind my eyes that wouldn't open.

That sick god damned mother fucking bastard. When I was awake, he didn't even _look_ at me. If he did, I know he didn't see me. Not with this kind of heat. When I was awake, he didn't even act like he gave a damn thing if I came or went, if I lived or died_._ If I was awake, he would never touch me. I got injured, cut down like a human shield for the god damned bastard. _Protecting him. _And this. He put those god damned mother fucking hands like ice all over me; making me burn. And I want to hurt him, hurl him against a wall to see his skinny body slam against it, for the satisfaction of hearing the loud soundk of his head cracking loudly on it. I wanted for a moment to _hurt_ him; for this, for _lying_. I coldly shut down that desire. I wouldn't hurt him. Not badly. But my anger didn't go away or diminish. Because it was the _him_, the damn bastard, not anyone else on the goddamned dimension, I knew that for a very long time, it wouldn't. No one but the son of a bitch mage could. I could control my anger. I was better at that than anyone. But underneath it all, I knew that under it, this hurt. I would translate that into fury, something else I was good at. That would make it harder every time I saw his face.

Him and his hands were there, laying bandages over me, and I could feel more and more. My anger burned hotter and hotter. I still couldn't move. And then, he left even the presence of his body at the bedside, something I could sense easily after becoming so attuned to his body, and I was left with my anger. I ignored it, and I waited, trying to go back to sleep. Eventually, I settled into my regular sleep; deep, but still aware. If the mage came, I would know it. And I would hate it. But I would know.

**[Fai] **I woke up startlingly fast, going from asleep to awake in less than a second. My mouth tasted foul, everything ached, and my forehead was now up against the cold wall. I pulled myself so that I sat on my futon, carefully avoiding looking at Kurogane. For a moment, my stomach lurched, and I thought I would repeat last night's episode, but thankfully it settled back quickly. Slowly, I stood, shaking slightly as I walked towards the bathroom, where I vigorously brushed my teeth. But even after that, my mouth still tasted horrible, even _felt _nasty. I brushed my tongue, the insides of my cheeks, the roof of my mouth, succeeding in making the sensation recede. I still had the urge to brush, to get clean, but for now it would have to do. I rinsed my mouth and fought the temptation to return to my futon, instead approaching Kurogane. I picked up a clean washcloth sitting on his nightstand, wetting it with cold water and brushing it over his lips.

_I want to kiss him._

The thought sped across my mind, barely registering. It was simple, and it blanked out all my other thoughts. It was true, but._ . ._ . I leaned forward, lowering myself until I was just above him. I could still pull back. My forearm was braced on the bed and he was a breath away and I didn't even pause even as my thoughts slowed to a stop.

_Kiss him._

So I did. I let my lips just barely touch him, soft as the wings of one of the butterflies Yuuko adored. And then they pressed fully against his. And I realized that his mouth was the single best thing I had ever known in my life. His taste … . my stomach felt like an opening pit, dizzying me. I pulled back slowly, my lips sort of. . . tingling. I could still feel his skin on mine, his lips. Soft, but firm. Not giving. Slightly rough, maybe almost chapped. _Like I imagined. Better. So much better._

And then his cold, wine-red eyes opened.

**[Kurogane] **I felt the mage's presence first. He was there, as if he always had been. It was the poison I knew, that had made me sleep deeply enough that his approach hadn't woken me up immediately. It made me uneasy. I was used to knowing; to always knowing where they all were, even when I didn't _care _what they did. And I didn't care. But I was alert. How could I not be?

There was a cold brush on my lips, soft, almost not there. So cold. Like his hands were. But not. _Different._ A chill went down my spine and thought I could have moved, I was frozen still, my breathing stopped. He . . . . no. It wasn't. I felt the anger shimmering in the pit of my stomach, not raging yet. Not yet. Maybe it wasn't. I remembered his hands. His touch on me. It _was. _His hands wanted me. _Not like him, the mother fucking bastard, _I thought bitterly.

Then, he pressed his lips against mine. Like him, they were cold. Soft. Full. He wasn't like the other ninjas I had sometimes been with. I knew when I saw him he wouldn't be. They were harsh and uncomfortably hot. The Mage was soft, his lips giving against mine. And cold. My heart slammed. Once. Twice. A third time. He pulled back. _Sensual._

_He thought I was asleep. He __**lied.**_

I made my eyes open. And I stared into his ice-blue ones. And their color was almost as cold as me. He was cold. But I was colder. And my anger burned under that ice.

His face was a mess of confusion. And then he smiled; instant and flawless. The cold burned away in the face of my anger.

"_Stop fucking smiling." _I growled, my fingers, loose and stiff from lack of movement curling slowly in the sheets. I felt my knuckles go white as I bore into him with my eyes. The smile was gone. Like it had never been. There wasn't anything more honest on that pale face.

"You goddamned coward." I snarled. I wanted to hit him. Wipe that blank look off his face. As if he didn't have feelings, just like the rest of us. _Like he hadn't touched me. _"You can't even wear your own god damn face. Where's your mother fucking _shame?"_

He didn't know what to say to that. _What was there to say- _it was true. What was he going to do? Tell me it _was _his face as if he was stupid enough to not know? He probably _would. _The mother fucker. Well if he didn't have anything else to say, then I did. Every time he smiled blindly at me and I let him walk away. _Not anymore._

"You _have _no shame. If you did, you wouldn't still be _**lying to me.**_You never fucking learn a goddamn lesson, do you? You never have. Why start now? It's not like it _matters _to you."

**[Fai] **I was so happy, for just a second. He opened his eyes. And they were cold, frozen cold. Then he opened his mouth. Kurogane didn't shout. When he was truly angry, he didn't shout. His voice deepened, his tone measured, every word enunciated clearly, making it so easy to cut deep.

". . . start now? It's not like it _matters_ to you."

Honestly? Most of the time, he was right. I wore a mask always, rather than show my emotions, and I didn't have shame when it mattered. I lied to him. I never learned. But that last comment snapped me to attention. I whirled in a cloud of blind rage, my open hand smacking him across the cheek. His head whipped to the other side.

"Matters to _me_? Matters to _**ME**_?" Angry tears gathered, vaguely blurring my vision. "What would you know about that, hmm? You do your damndest _not_ to care, to make sure _nothing_ matters to you, the oh-so-stoic ninja warrior. And then, you jump out in front of a blade for me, the one who matters least. I don't think _you're_ the one who should be talking to _me_ about _that._"

I was standing. And he was staring. His eyes, his dark-like-blood-not-cold-anymore-eyes were wide. I couldn't remember if they had ever looked like that before. Shocked. Completely shocked. A red outline of my hand was appearing on his face, across his cheeks and his lips. I couldn't tell if he noticed, because he just stared at me. His lips tightened and I felt my gut sinking. I had made him angrier. I turned away, but couldn't keep my eyes off him out of the corner of my eyes. I waited for the low stinging comment. And it didn't come.

"Fine." His voice wasn't low. Just quiet. He was looking away, at some corner of the room, completely still. "Just _leave."_

My throat closed for a minute. No apology. _Not that I was expecting one. _No anger. Nothing. Just the same hard face that I _knew _I could emotion behind. A storm of it. _It's not like it matters._

_To him that is._

"No" my voice left my throat, but it was a struggle to push it past that closed up feeling. I did it and I knew my voice hadn't cracked- _yet_- but it sounded wrong, strange in my ears.

Kuro's lips tightened until they went pale. His eyes closed, brows knotted together in a familiar but much more intense expression of his true fury. He didn't speak again. And neither did I.

_It didn't matter anyway, right?_

_So why bother now._

I smiled away from him. It was the only smile of its kind I can remember ever wearing- it was cynical and sarcastic and bitterly twisted. And I let it stay on my face. Even that was a lie. Because deep down, I was just despairing. But this was easier. So I kept wearing it.

_It doesn't matter anyway. It never has._

_To Kurogane, it never will._

**[A/N] ****RxR: **Hee… I like this chapter. Fun, fun. Hasn't Kuro learned? Never piss off your uke. Incurring an uke's wrath is asking for trouble.

**THM: ****scoff** Since when does Kuor learn anything that's not either A) related to a weapon or B) beaten into his head? Anyway, I just love the angst. ^_^ They're all dark and stuff. 3 So, all of you. Go send me PMs and stuff. And reviews. And stuff. On my account. Which is full of awesome stuff of this caliber. _Right here: .net/u/2279616/TheHatterMaddox _

So yeah. Have a ball. The yaoi's on me, ladies.


	7. Chapter 7

It was silent. Kurogane didn't move, and Fai didn't speak. They sat; Kurogane in the bed because he had no choice and Fai in the chair by the wall, because he would not leave. Leaving was giving in. Running Away. _Haven't I done enough of that? _His cynical smile twisted in one corner. It didn't feel as safe as the other. It wasn't quite comfortable. He couldn't quite stop it. Time passed, and eventually that faded away too.

Kurogane didn't open his eyes. His brows were still knotted together where they met. "Look." He broke the silence, quiet. His face was drawn tight, and Fai knew he couldn't hope for an apology. _Even though I deserve one. _He wasn't giving one either. Fair enough, he guessed. He didn't say anything, just waiting, gut knotting uneasily.

"Just . . . " There was a long pause, that stretched. "Why?"

The word hung there. Kurogane opened his eyes and looked at Fai dead on, eyes dull and unflinching. Fai's eyes; shadows of dark ice, went to a corner of the room, inhabited only by shadow. Kurogane didn't elaborate- didn't say which why it was that he wanted. He didn't need to. Fai's heart thudded.

_Why? . . . . . why _did _I?_

And it was then that he was terrified- somewhere in all the years of burying the truth, he had lost something. He no longer knew the reason why. And that was the last thing that he had been holding on to. Gone.

Kurogane stared; expecting an answer probably. Fai tried to swallow and failed. _**Why did I lie?**_

**[Kurogane] **The mage's lips trembled. His eyes were too wide. He looked _scared_, unreasonable. More than he should have been, with me unable to move beyond the bed. I narrowed my eyes slightly.

He moved his lips to speak, made a slight sound, and closed them again. My eyes narrowed a bit more- _answer the damn question, mage. _But I was unsettled- the kind of instinct in my gut that never lied. This wasn't right. The mage has his reasons- ones that I could not respect, but I knew they were there, silent. Confronted, he had hinted at them before. Why not tell now?

"Fai." I said his name. I tried to ignore the way it tasted on my tongue- like an indulgence. My anger was still stronger, the need for an answer to that burning, painful question. "Why."

He parted his lips. He should have made a sound. Someone else would have. His shoulders trembled- invisible to someone who didn't watch like me. Then shook again, this time subtle, but visible. His lips trembled. And then he collapsed on himself, arms pulling inward and hands grasping at his upper arm, his shoulder. Tears streaming down his too-pale cheeks. Silent.

Then there was the inevitable sound of crying, quiet. His shoulders were thin, wracked by the uncontrolled crying, and I wasn't angry. I was at a loss. _Not a lie. _Not this.

"I don't," He sobbed, voice choking up in a sob. I wanted to say something, but then he was talking again. I pressed my lips together and listened. I waited for him to talk- after all this time. Finally. I was worried by the fact that I didn't know why he was crying. But I understood that he needed this. So I waited, fingers tightening on the bed sheets.

"I C-can't . . . . " He sobbed, and the last word escaped as a bewildered, desperate cry; demanding an answer a justification. "_**Why?"**_

I closed my eyes against the stab at my heart. His face was twisted, broken. Red and puffy around those too-pale eyes, framed by now-lank fair hair. I straightened my face.

"Fai." He cried quietly, and I tried again, raising my voice just slightly. Not loud or demanding. But to be heard. "_Fai."_

He looked up at me through slender fingers that shook. My anger uncurled in my stomach, warningly. _That goddamned mage. _Against all my best inclinations I wanted to kiss those fingers. I ignored that too. I beckoned, curling my fingers. He shook his head.

I closed my hand. _So that's how it is. _Something else I didn't know. More that he hadn't told me.

"_Fine._" I whispered. He sobbed harder, but I was angry all over again. _You're not the only one hurt, you bastard. You mother fucking bastard. _

"I d-don't _know!" _He cried, and collapsed into himself even more; curling further into himself. He sounded angry. His fingers curled, nails biting into his skin. "I'm _sorry!" _

He wasn't sorry for what he had said. Not for what he had done. I knew the liar better than that. He was sorry, though. _You should be. _

"Fine." I said quietly. "It's fine."

I paused a second.

"Cry. It helps."

And he did. Sitting in his chair, where I couldn't touch him. And in a sicker reality that I shut out of my mind, so that his dirty traitorous hands couldn't touch me. Just cling to his own body. I watched until he was silent. Until he drew his knees up to his chest, took a deep shuddering breath and dared to meet my eyes. His looked dull. Red-rimmed and puffy. Cheeks made a mess by too much crying.

"I don't know why. It's gone."

And it was the truth. So I didn't argue.

"Okay."


End file.
